


Keeping Warm

by tomatopudding



Series: With a Thousand Sweet Kisses (I'll Cover You) [43]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Short & Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:00:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22295212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomatopudding/pseuds/tomatopudding
Summary: Prompt: A kiss pressed to the top of the head.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: With a Thousand Sweet Kisses (I'll Cover You) [43]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1420288
Comments: 1
Kudos: 50





	Keeping Warm

**Author's Note:**

> Find the the kisses prompt list here.

In Aziraphale’s opinion, in the height of winter there was nothing like settling in with a cup of cocoa (especially spiked with a liberal dose of peppermint schnapps) and a good book in front of a roaring fire. It was just the thing when the world outside was covered in a blanket of crisp snow and the cover of clouds kept the skies muted and gray. It was why winter had always been his favorite season. The same couldn’t be said for Aziraphale’s companion. Crowley’s serpentine nature made him vaguely cold-blooded and it had been bad enough back in London but at least there he could simply turn up the heat in the apartment (or increase his body temperature with a simple twiddle of his thumbs) but every since the failed Armageddon, they had been living  _ off the grid _ , as it were, which meant no miracles of an ethereal or occult nature. Without that skill, their beautiful quaint cottage had the tendency to hold a chill during the winter months. 

“Cold,” Crowley grumbled, his voice muffled by the sheer number of woolen layers he had wrapped around himself.

“You poor dear,” cooed Aziraphale.

That was the only invitation Crowley needed to shuffle over to the loveseat and plop down beside Aziraphale, tucking his knees into his chest to curl up as much as possible under the thickest knit afghan they owned. The angel slid his arm around where he approximated Crowley’s shoulders to be (he had long since mastered the art of holding a book and turning the pages one-handed without the help of a miracle) so that the demon could tuck himself against Azirapahle’s chest.

“Shall I read to you?” asked Aziraphale, knowing the answer and already turning to the point where they had left off the day before.

Crowley made some kind of noise of agreement and snuggled closer as Aziraphale began to read. Just as Bilbo was preparing to test his wits against Gollum, Aziraphale heard a gentle snore come from somewhere in the vicinity of his chest. Aziraphale closed the book and dropped a kiss into the shock of red hair that was sticking out of the afghan cocoon.

“Sleep well,” Aziraphale murmured, “my darling demon.”

  
  



End file.
